Untruth
by Gramm485
Summary: Saturday, September 5th, 1998: New patient admitted, one Rebecca Chambers. Cause of condition is unknown, believed to be exposed to highly toxic chemicals. She is extremely hostile; treat with caution. The following is a list of recommended medication...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Chilly. Chilly and almost damp. She slumped over, shivering. Her limbs were covered in goosebumps, the fine hairs standing on end. She ran her arms along themselves, trying to raise her internal temperature again. Her eyes opened, green iris' dilating to accommodate the flow of light. Nothing but gray and fuzz.

_Oh God, I'm blind!_

She shut her eyes tightly, rubbing them furiously, then tried them again. They felt filmy, like she'd been sleeping for a long time. Still nothing but gray, shapeless fuzz. Her heart rate increased, well into the danger zone. She wasn't blind, she had 20/20 vision!

_What happened? Why can't I see? Where...what?_

Her mind was in chaos, fried like a radio antennae hit by lightening. Name...what was her name? It felt like she was digging through an empty hole, searching for something long buried but removed. She couldn't remember anything, but still...something popped into her head:

_DNA contains three, no four, nucleotides, possible codons: 64! C-ten H-sixteen N-five O-thirteen P-3: Adenosine triphosphate!_

Utter gibberish, what was she thinking? It was the ramblings of a lunatic. Wait...it was familiar...chemistry! Biochemistry! She couldn't get enough of it! More of it rattled off in her head. It all made perfect sense; she knew what a monosaccharide was, the four heirarchies of protein. But what about her? Still, there was nothing of who was conjuring up the fantastic images and data of the human body. Who was the young woman with green eyes? Her hands shot to her head, gripping auburn bangs. Didn't she have a name?

_R...Rachel...no, Rebecca! Rebecca...Chambers!_

In a flood, her memory restored itself. Family, friends, and past all flowed into Rebecca's mind. She blinked back tears in her still sightless eyes, a warmth spreading throughout her body. Identity was like a blanket, reassuring her that she just wasn't a hollow shell. How could she have forgotten who she was?

Rebecca was Rebecca, and she like biochemistry. How old was she? Eighteen and four months. She was smart, already out of college; a real whiz kid. She didn't have a job, not yet, not until she got her feet wet in-

_S.T.A.R.S!_

Another flood of memory. She was Bravo team's medic, the youngest ever recruited in the Special Tactics and Rescue Service. She only had one assignment so far; the investigation into the cannibal murders had gone to hell. They were betrayed, set up. They almost died; most of them _did_ die. Edward and Kenny and Forrest, and more. They all died! It was Captain Wesker and Umbrella. S.T.A.R.S knew too much, so they killed them. Wesker shot her, _shot her_! Tried to kill her! But she had her vest, lucky lucky. Chris saved her, and they killed a monster and escaped.

Even further back. She'd been separated from Bravo team. Umbrella's secret training facility, the train, Marcus, Billy. She let Billy go, after they killed Marcus. He was innocent, and he didn't deserve to die. Then the horror at the mansion, but she survived. She survived with Chris, Jill, Barry, and Brad. They got out of Raccoon, and were ready to put Umbrella down for good-

-still cold. Rebecca looked down. She was wearing white scrubs, a short sleeve shirt with loose pants, very thin with no insulation. She could see again! Everything was a little blurry at first, but it was all there. Her hands, ten pink fingers against a gray floor. Ten toes curling for warmth against themselves. She really wanted a mirror, to confirm the green eyes her mother had lovingly said were almost too bright. But why was she dressed like this?

The room she was in had no definite shape. It was only four walls of segmented gray. It was soft and cushy. Pads...she was in a padded room. The panic rose in her chest again. She shouldn't be here, not in a padded cell. But where should she be? She couldn't remember. No faces or locations. She remembered Raccoon, but after that, it all went hazy and fizzled out.

_Door, I have to find the door...I have to get out._

There it was, in the corner, also gray. Rebecca stumbled to her feet and tried the knob. Locked. She hit the door with her small fist, but it barely made a sound. She fell back away from the door, pressing her back into the pads of the room. Her mousy auburn bangs began to stick to her forehead. Despite her chill, she was sweating. Claustrophobia was setting in; the room had definitely shrunk a few square feet in the last second.

The door opened, and her heart shot into her throat. It was a man, a large one at that. He was dressed a bit like her, in scrubs, but a little more comfortable looking. He even had shoes. He had a badge clipped to his shirt. Rebecca didn't see the name, only the red and white umbrella on it.

_Umbrella! Oh God, it's Umbrella..._

Quickly, she darted to the opposite corner, wishing she could disappear into the wall. The man stepped into the room, tracing her with his eyes carefully. He had one arm out, low to his body, as if she were dangerous. He began to edge closer, looking as if he was going to say something. Something snapped inside of her. Every fiber of her body screamed to get out. Rebecca bolted to the door, but met the man head on instead. He had no problem snatching her by the arm, rooting her to the spot.

Rebecca screamed and thrashed, which only served to wrench her shoulder in its socket. The man hiked her back, further into the cell. She resorted to beating on his arm, essentially a rabbit kicking a rhino. He caught her other arm, then coiled his around hers, locking her into a full-nelson, hiking her off her feet, where her legs kicked uselessly into the air in front of her. She didn't even weigh a hundred pounds; she may as well have been a feather.

"_NOO!_" she screamed. This was wrong, terribly wrong. "_NO! NO!_"

She didn't even hear the man yell something. Another man entered, carrying something that made her eyes bulge: a straitjacket. Rebecca shrieked again as the first man forced her arms into sleeves of the unforgiving garment, while the second forced her arms to cross themselves. The first strapped them down tightly with the buckles at her back, then hauled her to the corner of the room, plunking her to the ground. The two men left as suddenly as they came.

Rebecca clamored to her feet, with some difficulty without her hands, then began to kick at the door. The force of the blow resonated up her leg, turning it into a dull ache. She didn't stop kicking or screaming. Eventually, her body won, and she collapsed, her right leg on fire. She then proceeded to scream herself hoarse. Only then did she realize there were hot tears streaming down both of her cheeks.

"This is wrong!" she croaked at the door. "Please! I shouldn't be here!"

The door gave her no answer. Feebly, she gave it one last kick, then scooted back to a corner on her butt, sobbing. Umbrella didn't have her, it couldn't; she was with Chris, Jill, and Barry. They would never let them take her away. It was all just a prank, some new recruit garbage they hit her with. A little twisted, but any minute the punch line would be obvious, and they would all laugh-

-_God why can't I remember?!_

She tried again and again, looking for some tiny link that would cause a flood of memory, just like her identity and S.T.A.R.S. No matter how hard she tried, there was nothing. No memory of herself being captured, no memory of where she had been last. They were planning to leave soon, to go to Europe, but was that even right?

There was only the chilly room and the coarse fiber of her imprisoning jacket. The claustrophobia came again. The room shrank even further. Rebecca thrashed again, but the jacket may as well have been a steel cocoon. She mashed her head into the padding of the wall behind her, biting her lower lip. She had to get a grip, she was beyond hyperventilation. If she kept going she'd pass out, and the that was the last thing she wanted to happen. What were they going to do to her when that happened?

_Focus! Breathe slowly. Niiice and sloooww...in and out..._

Her breaths came out in short rapid jerks from her sobbing, but after a few seconds, began to control themselves. Her chest still heaved in the restrictive coat, but now slowly. The sobbing disappeared, now replaced by a silent stream of tears. Never in her life was she more confused.

She could remember everything from the past: childhood memories, college, the time she puked when she went to a house party, everything that was there was in her head. She remembered the mansion incident, and the terror she went through, as well as the friends she lost. After that, her memory was a frayed rope, spiraling outward until it disappeared altogether. She was sure of who she was, but what really frightened her was not knowing if the others were okay.

_Chris, Jill, Barry...please be okay, wherever you are. Please, you have to be okay!_

Rebecca curled into a ball for warmth. Her breathing was finally back to normal, but her heart rate was still through the roof, probably hovering around 90 beats a minute. It would probably stay like that until something started to make sense.

She was in a padded cell, that was certain, and that was real. She wasn't dreaming, or more accurately, having a nightmare. The discomfort was genuine. The two men, they looked like orderlies.

_Am I in a hospital?_

At any rate, they hadn't hurt her. Their assault was provoked by her panicked attempted escape. But what was the point of just restraining her then leaving? They easily overpowered her, were in complete control. Then they just left to let her cook. Like a mental patient. The thought made her chin quiver.

_I'm not crazy...I'm NOT crazy..._

Rebecca refused to believe it. Her setting and situation was telling her that she was a patient. That was impossible. But...the gap in her memory...it sat in her mind like a wound that refused to close. She snuggled closer into the pads, sniffing. Now her nose had began to run from her crying. It was annoying, and it made her feel even worse, but with no sleeve or hands to wipe it, she'd have to settle for sniffing.

But believe what she did, she couldn't shake a growing dread in her gut. If her surroundings were real, if the straitjacket securing her arms was tangible, then she was here for a reason. She had been captured by Umbrella, and was now their prisoner. Or there was the alternative:

She was insane.

An hour later, the door's locks released, startling her. She curled into a tighter ball as it opened, wishing that she could disappear. Someone was coming in.

* * *

**Author's Note: Crap, these are going to be at the end of all my entries now! This is just a little project I'm doing to keep posting while I work on heavier stuff. Sorry Lara for not doing your idea. I will do it eventually, I just have a couple of things I wanted to do first. **

**What can we expect about the story from this strange chapter? Everything, of course.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Rebecca swallowed hard. She couldn't help the tremble running through her body. Her jaw was vibrating so bad she thought her teeth might start chattering. An animal instinct coursed through her body; one to hide, to disappear in her surroundings. Instead, all she could do was cower like a rodent before a predator.

The door fully opened. It was another man, but not a burly orderly like before. Instead of scrubs and muscles, he wore a white lab coat, casually unbuttoned, revealing a light blue dress shirt and a striped tie. Complimenting his attire were brown slacks and an expensive looking pair of shoes. Once again, Rebecca couldn't see the name on his badge clipped to his coat, but the Umbrella logo was more than apparent. She couldn't help but let out a whimper.

The man, doctor, whatever he was, carefully slid into the room. He wasn't too bad looking: neatly combed hair and clean shaven, with a kind face and dark brown eyes. Those eyes watched her carefully at first, then they softened, expressing curiosity. His stance shifted from wariness to a more relaxed, casual one.

"Can you tell me your name?" he asked softly.

Her name? Why did he want to know? Didn't he know it already? Rebecca blinked hard through her blurry, red eyes. If they didn't know, they could find out just as easily. She didn't want to find out what they did if she refused to cooperate.

"Re-" she coughed quietly, her voice still scratchy from her shrieks, "Rebecca."

The doctor seemed intrigued by this bit of information. He stepped closer. Rebecca involuntarily tried to move further away, but was already halted by the wall.

_Please don't hurt me...Please..._

"Rebecca," he said soothingly, "Can you tell me the date?" She shook her head. "What about where you are?" Another shake. A jolt of self-pity ran through her. She felt so pathetic, not to mention confused at his questions.

_I probably look like hell, too._

He reached out suddenly, and she started with a squeak of fear and surprise. He withdrew his hand, partway, almost apologetic.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I know you must be scared. Please, let me help you take that off."

He motioned to her jacket. Rebecca paused, sniffing. She would have to turn her back to him so he could access the straps. What if he was toying with her, just so he could stick a syringe in her neck when she wasn't looking? Could anyone be that cruel?

Pause as she did, Rebecca shuffled around, exposing her back. Right now, she was all alone, and something told her that this doctor, whoever he was, wasn't going to hurt her. She wanted the horrible garment off of her as soon as possible. His hands worked the buckles on the back, unclasping the straps that restrained her arms. Gently, he helped her slide the terrifying coat off, then tossed it away from her. Immediately, she drew back to her corner, holding her arms.

"Thank you," she whispered in a shudder.

The doctor dug into his pocket and procured a handkerchief. He offered it to her, smiling. "Here."

Rebecca took it with a trembling hand, then began to wipe her eyes and face clear of her tears. She offered it back when she was done, but he declined, once again with a smile, stating that she needed it more. He squatted down, so that he was eye level with her.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

"My name is Dr. Timothy Burke. I've been taking care of you for a while." He pulled out a small penlight, then turned it on. "Follow this with your eyes please." He swept it back and forth across her gaze, and she did as he asked. He checked her pupils, shining the small light directly over each of her eyes. Rebecca recognized the standard method for searching for head injuries. "There doesn't appear to be any trauma."

Satisfied, Burke put the light away.

Rebecca swallowed hard again. Her throat felt scratchy and filled with mucus. Screaming herself silly an hour ago was turning out to be a bad idea. She didn't know what he was talking about, but he mentioned the fact that she had a head injury. That didn't sit well with her. Did it have something to do with her memory?

"Where am I?" she asked, hoarsely again.

"I think I should answer that in a more suitable surrounding," he replied mildly, then straightened, offering her his hand. Uncertain, she took it, and he helped her to her feet.

Her leg cramped as soon as it straightened, sore from its assault on the door. Rebecca winced before eying the rectangle of white in the gray pads almost apprehensively. With a nod of approval from Burke, she left her cell, then blinked as more vivid colors entered her eyes.

The place was laid out like a hospital. She was in a hallway, stretching left and right, doors spaced at regular intervals. She caught the numbers on a few of them; 600's, most likely the sixth floor. Everything was painted soft colors: greens, blues, and whites. There was a nurse's station near the end, as well as a door marked for stairs. A few stray gurneys were parked near the walls. Every so often, she'd catch sight of another doctor or nurse, but she was the only patient.

Burke shut the door behind him. It was labeled 'isolation', a name that sent a chill down her spine despite the fact that it was warmer in the hall. His hand touched softly to her back, gently guiding her left down the hall. Her bare feet made no sound on the cold white tile, as opposed to his wingtips, which patted softly.

They stopped at an unlocked door, and Burke opened it for her. It was a standard hospital room. It had a bed, a walk in bathroom complete with a shower and bathtub, and even a small desk. On their way in, Burke picked up the clipboard and stack of charts hanging next to the door.

"Why don't you have a seat?" he suggested, pointing the bed.

Rebecca sat on the edge, holding her arms. She was still chilled. Burke seemed to sense this and draped the blanket from the bed across her shoulders, which she accepted gratefully. It was warm, soft, and comforting to be wrapped in something other than that cruel jacket. He walked to the sink and poured a glass of water, handed to her, then pulled the desk chair out for himself. Rebecca crossed her legs close to her body, snuggling under the warmth.

"Now, as to the matter of where we are. This is the sixth floor of The Raccoon Institute. Are you familiar with it?"

Rebecca nodded, already finishing the glass of water in big gulps. The cold liquid numbed her sore throat, giving her back her voice. The Raccoon Institute was an Umbrella owned facility just outside of Raccoon City. They dealt with...special cases of medicine. Rebecca had never been inside, but actually hoped to get a research position someday.

Burke looked uncertain for a minute, almost if he didn't know where to begin. "Rebecca, what can you tell me about the last three or so months?"

She cast her eyes down, "I...I'm not sure...I really don't remember anything."

"Then let's start at the beginning. How were you feeling early July? Do you remember anything then?"

Rebecca shrugged. "I was fine...I guess. I was recruited by S.T.A.R.S the month before."

"What about later July? The 23rd to be exact."

Rebecca froze. That date would forever be engraved in her mind. The helicopter crash, meeting Billy, the horror in Arklay Forest. It all started on July 23rd. It was all Umbrella's fault. They were secretly creating viral weapons in labs hidden in the forest. She and the other survivors uncovered their conspiracy. Now here she was, talking to an Umbrella doctor.

_Are they trying to get me to confess? Do they know that I was there? Oh my God, what if they're going to kill me..._

Rebecca bit her lower lip. "I...I...don't remember," she stammered.

She never was good at lying. Burke flipped through the clipboard that had been hanging outside of her room. "Zombies? Monsters? A giant, blood drinking plant? Umbrella at the heart of it? Remember it or not, Rebecca, that's what the records have you saying You don't remember anything?"

He handed Rebecca the clipboard. She recognized the logo in the corner of one of the papers. It had been run through a copier, but there was no mistaking it. It was the S.T.A.R.S emblem, an official document.

"In a way, Umbrella _was_ at the center of it. At that time, the Ecliptic Express, our company railroad, was transporting some hazardous chemicals. Part of the train derailed. We believed that you came into contact with some of those chemicals after your team was forced to land. We ran a few tests, and found some abnormal activity in your cortex, as well as..."

Burke began talking about the specifics, and although she knew every word, Rebecca stopped listening, absorbed in the reports. Official documents, detailing her! Their was a helicopter crash. That much was real. But after that...

_'Officer Chambers drew her weapon on the team, screaming incoherently. We managed to restrain her, but she broke free and escaped into the woods...'_

That part of the report was signed by Edward Dewey.

_Edward, you're alive?_

So he hadn't been mauled by infected dogs, only to reanimate and try to kill her? She didn't have to end up killing him herself? A flood of sadness at the painful memory, then relief flowed through her. It hadn't happened after all...Her buddy Edward was still alive. She turned the page.

_'...Officer Chambers did not respond to any of our hails, and began to fire at anyone who got too close. We lost her on the first floor of the abandoned Spencer mansion...Officer Redfield made an attempt to subdue her, but she incapacitated him with an aerosol, then stole his weapon. The entire time, she was still screaming something about zombies and monsters, though there was nothing to indicate the presence of either.'_

Signed, Jill Valentine. So, she hadn't maced Chris by accident. It was intentional, in a chemical induced frenzy...She still felt bad about doing that to him, especially since they hadn't even formally met. Chris was a pretty cute guy...

"...we're not sure what caused it, but the effect was profound," continued Burke. "It had an affect similar to a person high on phencyclidine. We think that's what were causing the hallucinations. As far as the lapses in your memory, they are local, since..."

Still only half listening. Now the reports were from the hospital. The first one was her admittance.

'_Saturday, September 5__th__, 1998. New patient admitted, one Rebecca Chambers. Admitted for extreme delusions and hallucinations. Cause of condition is unknown, though she is believed to have been exposed to highly toxic chemicals. She is extremely hostile, and should be restrained or isolated at all times. Patient has knowledge of combat and fighting; extreme caution is necessary._'

After that were lists of treatments and medication, followed by charts and readings. There were quite a few. Rebecca looked at the dates. The most recent was January 4th. The last time she looked at a calendar, it was still August! Wasn't it...?

What happened that night, the night they crashed in Arklay forest.?

_Why can't I remember?Everything after July 23__rd__...It's just gone. Over three months...just gone?_

Still stunned, she almost didn't hear Burke say her name. "Is there anyone we can contact, a relative, family, a boyfriend?"

Rebecca shrugged, "My parents...?"

"We've been trying to get them for quite some time...We can't find them."

This bit of news made her stomach churn. The water she just slammed bubbled. Where were her parents? Surely, if they'd heard that their only daughter was institutionalized, they would come over in a heartbeat. But from what Burke had said, her father and mother were nowhere to be found. What if something happened to them in the last few months? What if she knew about it, and now it was gone?

Seeing her despair, Burke smiled warmly and placed a hand on her knee. "Don't worry, Rebecca. I'm sure they're just fine. Please try to stay positive. Your condition has improved exponentially in the last 24 hours, and that's something to smile about. Some of us thought that you'd never recover."

"It said that I was admitted in the beginning of September," she said slowly, drawing the blanket tighter around herself. "If it all happened in July, where was I for the month of August?"

"You were in the care of Raccoon General. After they were unsuccessful in treating you, they decided to move you to a private facility for better treatment." He made a face. "You were quite a...handful...You were attacking anyone on sight tooth and nail. We had to restrain you until you passed out from exhaustion. Even then, we had to strap you to a bed. Getting you to eat was a nightmare in itself. You were in the isolation room far more than you think, Rebecca."

The local hospital had tried to help her, but she was too deranged for normal treatment. It was a perfectly acceptable reason. It only made her feel worse. Just how badly had she sunk in her dementia? But at the same time, crushing the wave of self pity was a burning sense of relief. That whole night didn't happen? All the evidence was certainly pointing to that. Rebecca very much wanted to believe that.

"So why did you let me out now?" she asked. "How do you know I'm not just trying to trick you? Not that I am!" she added desperately.

"The camera in the isolation room picked up a change in your behavior," Burke said, a hint of excitement in his voice. "You became more docile, then began to act confused. After that, you went to sleep on your own. When you woke up, however, it seemed that you were panicked. When the aids came to investigate, you tried to flee." Rebecca blushed. "I'm sorry that you had to go through something like that, I really am. It had to be horrifying. But the best, safest, thing to do was to restrain you until you settled down...Then you and I were introduced."

Burke stood up and took the clipboard from her. "It's nine in the morning. Why don't you take a nap, then have something to eat? You've been in isolation for the past three days, and you look weak. And besides you have a visitor coming in later this afternoon."

Rebecca was surprised. "I do?"

Burke nodded. "Of course. All of S.T.A.R.S has been coming in regularly for the past three months. You didn't think they'd just leave you here, would they?"

Rebecca shook her head, warmed by the thought of the support she had, as well as shame for not being in the condition to remember it. "Who's coming?"

Burke flipped through his notes, finding a list of appointments.

"Ah, it's your captain, if I'm not mistaken. Albert Wesker."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Captain Wesker?_

Her stomach did a flip flop as Burke left the room. Wesker was a traitor. He led her friends to their death. Then, in the bowels of the secret lab, he tried to execute her himself. If she hadn't been wearing her vest, or if he'd aimed for her head, she would be dead.

_No, Wesker also died! That Tyrant killed him. He can't be alive, especially after that explosion...but he's coming to visit?_

If Wesker was still alive, then...it couldn't have happened. All the signed reports were real, passed on by Chief Irons himself. She maced Chris with a can of bug spray while she was deluded, believing it to be an accident. Did Wesker really shoot her, or was it simply her mind playing tricks again?

_But it was all so clear...so real...was it really just one big hallucination?_

Rebecca leaned back on the bed. Instantly, she found out that it was a bad idea. It was soft, cushy, and warm. She felt very tired, and the pillow was thick and comfortable. Still huddled in the blanket, she burrowed under the thin sheet, feeling safe. The jacket and isolation room had been unbearable. Her claustrophobia had almost driven her to the edge of breakdown, and the straitjacket had only intensified it. Now, after being told that everything had been a bad dream, laying in a bed with real sunlight streaming through the window, she didn't care.

This had to be real. It just had to be. There were no such things as killer monsters, zombies, or evil corporations. Within seconds, she was out like a light

* * *

Rebecca woke at noon. She didn't want to roll out of bed, but the captain was coming at two o'clock. She forced herself to get up, fighting through a yawn as she swung her legs out. The bathroom had a set of fresh fluffy towels waiting for her, so she took a long, hot shower.

Afterwards, as she dried her hair, she got her first look at herself in 3 months. Her short hair was a little longer than she remembered it. It now hung about an inch longer, just enough to cover her ears. Other than that, her eyes were still their piercing green, but there were dark circles underneath them.

_I definitely look crazy..._

She gave an airy laugh to herself, then wiped the mirror clean of steam. She _was_ crazy, but she was fine now. In a drawer in her room, there was a fresh uniform for her, as well as a pair of slippers. As she slipped the shirt on, she took notice for the first time of the bracelet she was wearing. It was a standard hospital trinket, bearing her name and room number.

Burke said that he'd show her where the cafeteria was later. On top of the desk was a bottle of water and a plate with some wrapped sandwiches; ham and cheese. Rebecca ate ravenously, not realizing how hungry she'd been. When she finished the last bite, she wrapped herself in the blanket again and reclined on the bed, letting her body digest the meal.

With a bit of nervousness, she looked at the clock on the wall. It was half past one. The captain was going to be coming soon. She thought about the words he'd spoke in her hallucination with Chris and herself in Arklay.

"_You killed them with your own dirty hands you son of a bitch!_" Chris had said, his lips almost touching the muzzle of Wesker's gun that was jammed in his face.

Rebecca remembered the feeling of loss, of horror, at what he'd done. A simple, almost breathless word escaped her lips.

"_No..._"

Wesker had smirked, his true emotions hidden by his sunglasses.

"_Oh yes, dear. Just like this._"

With that, he had pointed the gun away from Chris, aiming at her instead, then pulled the trigger. It felt like getting punched in the chest, only a thousand times scarier. She fell back and hit her head, blacking out as she heard Chris say her name. The next thing she knew, he was crouching over her.

Rebecca shook her head. No. It couldn't be true. Afterwards, the Tyrant that Wesker released killed him. So how could he be coming to visit? Not to mention the whole place went up in flames afterwards. No one could survive that. The whole thing was just another delusion. A fabrication of her mind.

The clock's hands crept closer and closer. At five to two, a loud, authoritative rap sounded at the door. Rebecca jumped in surprise, then clamored off of the bed and shrugged the blanket off.

"C-come in!" she called.

The door opened. Albert Wesker, Captain of S.T.A.R.S's Alpha Team, walked in, very much alive and well. It seemed that he just came from duty, or possibly on a break. He was wearing his S.T.A.R.S uniform, a navy blue shirt with the three star emblem patched on both sleeves. His belt was full of equipment, making the possibility of him being on break more than likely.

He looked at her stoically from behind his perpetual shades, but gave a small smile upon seeing her.

"Hello, Rebecca."

She stiffened upon hearing her name, straightening her shoulders. "Sir!"

Wesker chuckled, then shut the door behind him, slipping off a pair of gloves. "Relax, rookie. This isn't the military, and you're not on active duty."

Rebecca slouched, feeling overwhelmed with relief by his casualness. Very little got the captain worked up, and for once, she was glad to hear her nickname. It meant that nothing had happened. She was still the rookie, he was still the captain. S.T.A.R.S was S.T.A.R.S, and everything was normal. She let out a breath.

"Thank you, sir."

Wesker pulled the desk chair out, tossing his gloves on the counter. "Do you mind if I sit?"

"No, not at all."

Wesker sat, and Rebecca joined him from the edge of her bed.

"So," he began mildly, "It seems you're feeling better."

Rebecca nodded earnestly at the obvious. "Yes. Much better. Though..." her eyes drooped. "I still have memory loss."

Wesker seemed to perk up a bit, concerned. "Really? How extensive? I hope our talented field medic won't have to go through basic again."

She blushed. "No sir, it's nothing that serious. Just from when after we were in Arklay until I woke up this morning...and everything during that night is all just a fabrication, so...an incomplete case of retrograde amnesia."

"I see..."

Both of them were silent for a few seconds. The clock ticked another minute.

"Sir? What...exactly happened that night? I skimmed a few reports from Edward and Jill, but...how _bad_ was it?"

Wesker leaned back, folding his hands.

"Well...you'd have to ask Captain Marini for specific details about how it all started. Alpha team gave chase. It seemed that an escaped convict was located nearby, so Bravo team decided to handle that."

_Billy?_

No, not the Billy she remembered. That Billy was only an illusion.

_Of course he was. What convict would help an officer of the law? God, I'm so stupid!_

"You had a head start, but we caught up fairly fast. It seemed you were heading for shelter, and we landed fairly close to the abandoned Spencer mansion, so we decided it was as good a place as any. Our suspicions were proved true when we arrived: the lock was shot off. Once inside, we split up and began to comb the building. Chris," Wesker pushed the bridge of his sunglasses up with his finger, "hothead that he is, decided to break away from Joseph. He bumped into you in a storage closet, I believe. His report stated that you were afraid, but seemed to recognize you. When he approached you, you sprayed him in the face with a can of insecticide."

Rebecca winced. No matter how many times she heard it, it didn't get any easier to take in. She was never going to live it down. Chris would probably never talk to her again.

"Is he okay?"

Wesker nodded slowly. "Yes. He returned to active duty about a week later, nothing serious. After about half an hour, we managed to corner you in the basement. I overheard a few of your words. Something about a lab, and a conspiracy?"

Rebecca blushed again. "Yes sir. I...I thought I was in a secret lab, or something. That it was owned by Umbrella, and that they were conducting experiments with a virus."

Wesker nodded again. Rebecca was never more embarrassed in her life. She couldn't believe that a chemical spill could do something so horrible. She was going to go down in history as the youngest, most failed recruit ever.

"So," the captain continued, "We tried to get you to surrender peacefully, but you were far beyond coherent by this time. And at _this_ time," he added. "I owe you an apology."

"For...?"

"...shooting you."

"Y-you mean that actually happened?" she squeaked.

"You fired as me and Barry moved in. Either you _do_ need to go through basic again, or you were too doped up to aim straight. I had no choice but to attempt to neutralize you. God's will that you remembered your vest."

Rebecca was shocked that her captain actually shot her, even if it was in self defense at her craziness. What shocked her more was that she shot at Wesker and Barry. Barry had a family! Macing Chris seemed like a laugh compared to that.

"...after that, we managed to subdue you, then brought you back into the city, albeit we had to hogtie you to guarantee our safety."

Wesker crossed his legs, hooking his hands around his knee. "You said that me shooting you 'actually happened'? What exactly did you see, rookie?"

"Well...I, uh...I thought that you were part of the conspiracy, sir."

Wesker laughed. "And I shot you because...?"

"Because me and Chris found out about it."

Wesker laughed again. Rebecca even joined with him after a while. It was so stupid!

"What about the whole reason we went out there? The cannibal murders?"

"That was a matter that S.T.A.R.S resolved about a month ago. It turns out that Jill had the closest guess. It was a cult that had moved into the Arklay forest. Rest assured, all of the apprehended are serving time in institutes."

"I'm glad to hear it, sir," she said, and meant it too. "But one thing is still bugging me. Everything was so real, so clear. I didn't think I was seeing things. It didn't seem any different from how we are now. I've read a lot about this type of stuff, but I never thought it would be like this."

"Nothing ever is, Rebecca. Perhaps it was just your mind coping with stress. What do you remember afterwards?"

"Well...here's where it starts to get a little fuzzy," she admitted. "I remember going back to the city with Chris, Jill, Barry, and Brad. After that, it just kind of dies out. Chris said something about...Europe. That we were going to go or something." She rolled her eyes. "You know, to stop Umbrella. But after that, it's just empty."

"Interesting...You don't remember anything?" Wesker asked, leaning forward Rebecca shook her head. "Tell me, Rebecca, have you ever been to Europe? Seen the country firsthand?"

Rebecca shook her head. "No sir. Geography wasn't a strong point."

"And yet you had no problem envisioning secret labs, evil research, and killer viruses. Plainly put, your mind was showing you what it knew best. All that time spent in chemistry labs simply projected itself. It simply blocked the rest out, since it didn't know how to conjure up fact."

Rebecca was surprised. "That's interesting, sir."

Wesker shrugged. "Just a thought." He looked at his watch. Rebecca glanced at the clock, astonished that they had been talking for over an hour. "I really must return to duty," he said, standing up and replacing his gloves. "Please try to recover quickly, rookie. S.T.A.R.S would like their medic back as soon as possible."

She smiled shyly as Wesker reached and frumpled her hair, a habit that the team developed due to her size. They all treated her like a kid sister, something that she didn't like. She would much rather be treated like the rest of the team. But this time, she welcomed it.

"Yes sir, I will sir!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Captain Wesker left, leaving Rebecca with very little to do. Her room didn't have a TV, or even a deck of cards for that matter. She was stuck twiddling her thumbs until Dr. Burke returned closer to the evening. As promised, he showed her to the cafeteria, one floor below.

Rebecca began to get the general layout of the place. From what little she noticed on the way to the cafeteria, there were just standard hospital rooms, with an office or a specialized room every few doors. It wasn't much different from a normal hospital. The cafeteria was no exception. Since it was near the supper-hour, it was packed, both with patients and staff. Some, she noticed, had orderlies with them.

_Well...it _is_ a mental institution. Some of the people here might be a little dangerous._

Her thoughts were confirmed when an outburst from a man at a table sent a bowl of soup flying. Quickly, he was restrained by the two other men sitting with him. Burke steered her away from the commotion and to the line, where he treated her to a pasta dish, which wasn't too bad, considering it was cafeteria food. Rebecca had had enough of it at college. Maybe it was because she was famished.

While she and Burke sat and ate, he went through a list of treatments they had her on and would continue to try. "We've had you on several antipyschotics, including clozapine and quetiapine. The quetiapine seemed to work better, since it also helped calm you down."

Rebecca nodded with a mouthful of food, understanding perfectly. Though she wasn't an insomniac, quetiapine seemed to be a decent choice for a case like her's, especially if she was even half as bad as she had been.

"Tomorrow," he continued, "I've scheduled you for a CAT scan and an MRI. Over the past few weeks, there haven't been any changes in your brain chemistry. We're curious to know if your condition simply dissipated, or if it was a result of the medication."

Rebecca nodded again, though she wasn't thrilled about the idea. An MRI meant a small enclosed space. Not good for a claustrophobic. Being near a super powerful magnet didn't sound too appealing either. She'd heard the stories.

_I'm just lucky I don't have any fillings._

"Okay," she said. "Is there anything we can do about my memory?"

Burke shrugged. "Science has uncovered very little about memory. In general, it's best not to stress it, and allow it to come back on its on accord. We can try a few things, but we'll have to see how it progresses. Do you think that there was some type of traumatic event that might have blocked it out?"

Rebecca nervously thought of her missing parents, then shook her head. Her parents had to be fine. Maybe it was their anniversary, and decided to get away for a week or two. But would they really have done that if she'd been institutionalized? She shook the thoughts away. Worry caused stress, and she needed to keep clear of that; the meds she was going to be on would be bad enough. Some of those prescriptions were going to interfere with her reasoning. Speaking of which...

"I know the side effects of some of those meds," she said, "Why aren't I feeling them now?"

"When you began to calm down, we didn't want to overdo things," Burke said simply. "We weren't sure of your behavior, or how your body was being affected. We decided to halt your medication, until we could assess the situation better. We still gave you a few sedatives, but those should have worn off about 12 hours ago."

Rebecca and Burke talked for a few more minutes, about little things. When they were finished, he walked her back to her room, where her medication was already delivered. It was a small cupful. Inside were several white pills, which she recognized as clozapine, stamped with a dosage number. The long yellow tablets had to be the quetiapine. There were also a few others that looked familiar, though the names eluded her archive of medicine. There was one curious one that she hadn't seen before, a large orange geltab.

"What's this?" she asked as she picked it out of cuplet.

Burke peered from over something he was writing on a chart. "On your last set of scans, we noticed a change in your brain chemistry. It could be contributing to your memory loss. Several your neurotransmitters are being inhibited; that pill is something recently synthesized to stimulate those neurotransmitters." He chuckled briefly. "We haven't even had time to name it yet."

Rebecca nodded thoughtfully. Several neurotransmitters in the brain influenced memory slightly, like feelings of alertness.

_Maybe that's why most of my memory returned. Enough of the neurotransmitters made it through to stimulate that section of the brain..._

Rebecca downed all of the pills. It took a bit of water, and she felt a little dismayed at having to be medicated, but she was grateful that there might be a solution.

Burke bid her good night, but not before leaving her a present. From who knows where, he managed to procure a copy of _Biochemistry, an Introduction_, one of the textbooks she slammed in college. She had read it once, but thanked him furiously at his kindness.

She curled up in bed with it, then began to bury herself in her calling. An hour later, the meds started to kick in. The nausea was light, but steadily grew worse. Soon, she couldn't focus on her reading, her mind simply clouding over. Then the sedatives kicked in, and she felt wasted.

She set the book on the nightstand, then fell into her pillow, out in seconds.

* * *

The next morning, the sheets flew off and she stumbled into the bathroom, heaving violently into the toilet. Her body had already had time to process her meal last night, so very little came out. That didn't stop the racking heaves that threatened to choke her.

Rebecca fumbled for the handle to flush her body's reject, her eyes tearing from discomfort and the acidic vomit. As soon as she flushed, another set of heaves emptied nothing.

She shakily got to her feet, wiping her eyes clear, then rinsed her mouth. She felt absolutely baked. Her head was pounding, and thoughts weren't coming as quickly as she'd like. Every limb felt shaky and weak.

_How is this supposed to help?I felt better when I woke up in that cell._

It was all just trial and error. If this didn't work, they'd try a new set of pills, ones that would probably just make her feel worse, until they got a good combination.

She wrapped herself in the blanket and hit the call button. Burke would probably want to check on her, especially if she hurled that violently. Instead of getting a nurse first, Burke came right away.

"Good morning, Rebecca," he said with a smile.

Rebecca tried to return it, but failed. "'morning"

"Not feeling well?" he asked, looking anxious. She shook her head.

"No. Terrible."

He gave a quick once over, checking her eyes, pulse, blood pressure, and the lymph nodes in her neck. She described how she felt as his cool hands touched her skin. Everything was in check, with the exception of her nodes being a bit swollen.

"Your MRI was scheduled in half an hour, but it got pushed back by an hour. Why don't you continue to rest and read for a bit? I'll see if I can get something to help the nausea."

Rebecca winced. "Got a magazine?"

Burke chuckled lightly. "Don't tell me you finished that book already?"

"What book?"

Burke nodded to the nightstand. There was a book laying there, but she hadn't seen it before. It was titled _Biochemistry, an Introduction_. She'd read it in college.

_Where did that come from?_

"I gave it to you last night..." the doctor said slowly, smile faltering. "Don't you remember?"

"I..." Rebecca blinked. "...no, I don't" She swallowed hard, the taste of her puke even more apparent in her mouth. It was a small gap, but a gap nonetheless; she never remembered going to sleep last night, or the events before that.

Burke looked tense. "I'm going to get you in for a scan right away," he said quickly but quietly. "This isn't good..."

He left, leaving Rebecca with scattered thoughts. Was her memory slowing eating itself away? Why did she forget that little part just about last night? It scared her; very much. The thought of her mind wasting away was almost unbearable, leaving someone that was no longer Rebecca Chambers, but an empty shell. She held back the tears; she was eighteen, an adult.

* * *

As long as she kept her eyes closed, Rebecca could last the MRI. It felt like being inside a white, sterile coffin, but as long as she didn't see it, it couldn't be there. Burke had given her a mild sedative, something to help her relax and combat her fear of tiny spaces. It helped her nerves, but that omnipresent gnawing in her gut was still making her feel sick. She didn't want to puke inside, otherwise, she really would lose it.

She focused on the rhythmic pounding the machine created, answering the few questions that they would ask her; little memory drills to work the various parts of her brain. Inside her head, Rebecca slowly lectured herself on what the machine was doing. It was either that or think about the tiny tube she was currently stuck in-

_No, don't think about that! Now...what's the purpose of the gradient magnets?_

The little Q and A continued, until mercifully, she was pulled out. Once out of the machine, she took a deep breath and sat up. A nurse escorted her back to her room, where she curled up in bed, trying not to think of anything too complex. A migraine was working its way into her skull like a jackhammer on concrete.

Burke brought the scans with him the next time he checked up on her. He even let her examine them herself. It was just as he'd said: there was abnormal activity in her cortex, but now there were the faintest tinges of something in her frontal lobe.

_...frontal lobe communicates with the rest of the brain...if that's starting to be affected, I might lose my short term memory all together..._

Then her case could deteriorate even further. What if it continued to spread? She could develop a full blown case of anterograde amnesia. Rebecca looked at the readings again, trying to decipher the signs she knew. The left side of her hippocampus wasn't as active as it should have been-

-_less memory retrieval-_

"Rebecca?" asked Burke softly, jarring her from her iron stare at the inside of her head.

"Um..yeah?"

"Your meds are here."

So they were. The small cup was still full of the same pills; the white circles, the yellow tablets, and the out of place orange tab that was Umbrella's wonder drug. There were also a few different ones that replaced some of the previous unknown ones.

_Please do what you're suppose to...help me..._

She downed them, not looking forward to the effects when she woke up. If she remembered taking them at all.

Burke laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Please don't worry Rebecca...we'll take good care of you. I know this is very hard on someone so young."

"I know...I'm...fine..." she said softly, then laid back on her bed.

The sedatives began to kick in half an hour later, dragging her to a drugged sleep.

* * *

_Cold, dark shapes. Fathomless, without shape or substance. They moved, only to disappear like ripples on water, everywhere at once. There were no shapes, only curves that shook violently back and forth. A hum filled the air, as if there was noise, but nothing resounded in her ears. It was a vacuum, an airless bubble that threatened to swallow her. What little light there was dimmed, until it was gone. She still felt the shapes, the cold sensation they left over her like a winter's breeze. Her mouth had to be open, but nothing was coming out; only the whisperless hum of moving air. Lungs aching, she tried to draw a breath, but there was no air to breathe. She felt the shapes overtake her, covering every inch of her skin in cold. Something crept up to her neck, then coiled around it, slowly squeezing-_

-Rebecca bolted upright, gagging as hot jet of stomach acid worked it's way up her throat. She clasped her hand over her mouth, almost tripping on her sheets as she stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, heaving over the toilet.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Rebecca rinsed her mouth, but the water did nothing to cleanse her pallet of the disgusting taste of her bile. She collapsed to her knees, simply sitting on the white tiling of the bathroom. She'd slept, but her body didn't feel replenished, instead weak and deprived. Aches and pains riddled every joint, as if she was a 70 year old arthritic, not a spry college grad.

She scooted backwards, then pressed her back against the edge of the shower tub, drawing her knees to her chest. Slowly, with meticulous detail, she tried to recount everything the day before, starting when she woke up, the void of memory, the suffocating MRI, and her talks with Dr. Burke. Nothing seemed to be missing...

_But if there is something missing, I wouldn't know about it until someone told me._

Rebecca rose to her feet, then got back into bed, quivering. The light coming through her window was gray; the sun must just be coming up. The clock on the wall registered that it was indeed dawn. Her thoughts shifted to her dream...more like a nightmare.

Rebecca couldn't remember the time she had such a strange, senseless dream that scared her that bad. She thought that she would if the events that night in the forest were true, but that wasn't real; she had nothing to be scared about. There were no such things as zombie viruses or killer monster weapons.

_That dream...mom always said that every dream held a meaning...but I never really believed that. It's probably just random neurons firing in my doped up head._

Her mom...her dad...still no word from them. Were they visiting friends, or relatives? Did they take a break in their visits to see their daughter, and this was just an unlucky gap that she got a bit better? There were so many potential things, Rebecca didn't even know where to begin. Instead she closed her eyes. All the thinking was giving her a headache.

Sleep came, but mercifully, the dream did not.

* * *

The next day, more scans, more meds. Now they started throwing blood work into the mix. Her blood was drawn, tested, and redrawn. Still nothing. Still the same images of her head, showing an improvement from her delirium, but her memory loss seemed to be increasing. More parts of her brai were beginning to show symptoms.

A day turned to two, then a week. Her condition seemed to plateau, not decreasing or increasing in severity. The pockets of gaps in her memory got bigger, then decreased. Some days she could remember everything perfectly, others were completely blank. Burke said that several times, she was showing signs of her previous behavior that she didn't remember. Nothing extreme, but at times, she was acting confused, or even expressing some hostile behavior. Every night before she went to sleep (provided she remembered), Rebecca prayed that she wouldn't wake up in another jacket.

The captain came to visit again, though he had depressing news. S.T.A.R.S had to leave on a mission out of the city for a week, so they couldn't come to visit. Rebecca nearly broke down on Wesker's shoulder when she wouldn't be able to see Edward and Jill and the rest. She missed them so much...The most she let out were a few hiccups. There was no way crying was acceptable in front of her captain.

Wesker told her to be strong, to let the doctors make her better. He told her to keep taking her medication and get plenty of rest. It was funny, because he was starting to sound like a doctor himself. He was probably just worried about her.

More meds, always different, but that big orange pill was always there. Rebecca didn't even bother trying to figure out what kind the rest were. Her mental processes just weren't what they used to be.

Burke took her off several pills that were contributing to her nausea. It had been a while since she'd been able to keep food down. Her official S.T.A.R.S physical weighed her in at 93 pounds and 6 ounces; she was as light as a feather. In her now blurry recount of her drug induced adventure, Billy had no trouble giving her boosts to reach high places. Her favorite game with her dad always involved him tossing her in his arms when she was little.

The institute weighed her again. She'd lost 12 pounds, reaching a dangerous mark for her health. At least now that she had her stomach back to normal, she was able to eat a little bit to keep that stable. The loss of weight was beginning to show on her features. Her small, girlish face looked hollow, pale white instead of its usual healthy glow. The circles under he eyes grew from constant fatigue.

A pang of hunger woke Rebecca from a mid-afternoon nap. Not feeling sick and well enough to eat, she slipped on her slippers and shuffled out the door, giving her matted hair a quick comb with her fingers. As she neared the corner, she heard a set of voices. One of them was Burke's, and he sounded very irritated.

"...not my fault," he was saying. "It wasn't my idea to lighten up the sedatives! Now that she's conscious, the process is going to take twice as long. If they want results, tell them to go back to the way it was."

"It doesn't matter that it's not your fault," said the other voice, sounding unimpressed with Burke. "She's your patient, so she's your responsibility. Deal. Besides, the company is taking a lot of heat right now, so we have to be careful. We do what they say, they will give us a way out if it comes to it."

Rebecca rounded the corner. A man was walking off, leaving Burke standing in the hall, shaking his head. He noticed her and smiled.

"Hello Rebecca, was there something you needed?"

She shook her head. "Just going for some soup. What was that about?"

He rolled his eyes. "Let me tell you Rebecca, you are a brilliant girl. Don't let it go to waste in professional medicine. Sometimes I swear that your co-workers are just looking for an excuse to screw you over. At times it seems like it's not even about the patients anymore."

Rebecca laughed, remembering a few of the medical soap operas she guiltily watched. "Know what you mean. It's never about the patients."

He placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "Rebecca, I've got great news. We got a hold of your parents."

Instant, crushing relief. "Really?"

"Yes. They feel devastated that they had to leave you, but they had to go and notify some friends of your condition, as well as take care of some insurance things."

_Oh thank God!_

"They'll be here by the end of the week."

Rebecca couldn't explain it, but it just spilled from her lips. There was no sense in the question, and she had to stop herself from clapping a hand over her own confused mouth.

"Did they say that Ellie is coming?"

Burke's brow furrowed once, briefly. "Ellie?"

"She's my six year old sister. She's probably worried sick about me. Did mom say they were bringing her?" She anxiously pressed herself closer to him, worried.

Burke patted her shoulder comfortingly. "Of course she did."

Suddenly, Rebecca didn't feel so hungry anymore. She should be jumping with joy at the news of her family coming to visit her, especially her beloved little sister. Except...

Rebecca was an only child.

"Can I walk you to the cafeteria?" offered Burke.

Rebecca shook her head. "Uh...no thanks. I...just got really tired...I think I'm going to lay down for a bit."

She left Burke and went back to her room, then sat on the bed, clenching her fists tightly. Why had she done that? It felt like some innate defense mechanism that kicked in, like she had sensed something foul hidden behind everything. The name Ellie just popped into her head, and her body simply blurted it out.

The bigger question was why had Burke lied to her?

_It could have been something simple...maybe he thought I was getting another spell, so he tried to keep me calm by lying. What if that really was a little twitch in my head, and I just didn't know what I was talking about?_

But the fact that Burke lied to her without so much as a stutter made her uncomfortable. For that brief second, she saw him waver, like a curtain in the breeze. It seemed normal, but not if there was no wind. She sat and thought about it. It was like trying to put a puzzle together where none of the pieces fit each other.

Her hand reached over and felt the plastic hospital band that hung on her left wrist. It was so light, she'd barely remembered that she was wearing it. It was completely normal, just her name, room number, and the name of the building. But for some reason, the band suddenly felt like a manacle.

The opening door surprised her. She hadn't realized that she'd been thinking for an hour straight. It was Burke, with her scheduled medication. She took the cup in her hand, then gave it a little shake. The large orange pill winked at her. The Umbrella wonder drug certainly was different.

_Different...no way...can't be._

If she was thinking like _that_, then the institute had every reason to throw another straitjacket on her. But what if the possibility was there...Umbrella, behind it all? Holding her captive, altering her memory with drugs...it fit in perfectly with her delirious memory of the mansion.

But that didn't happen...

_...right?_

Burke was watching her, waiting for her to take her pills. Rebecca dumped a few in her mouth, then downed them, repeating until the cup was empty.

"Alright, Rebecca," he said as he took the cup from her and tossed it in the wastebasket. "We've taken out some pills that might make you sick, but you still might feel a little nausea from the combined medicine. Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

Rebecca nodded and he left. As soon as the door shut, she walked into the bathroom and opened the lid over the toilet. She spat into the toilet, spilling the orange pill from underneath her tongue into the water, then flushed it down.

She paused, feeling very anxious at what she was doing. There were so many things that could happen. If she was wrong, her condition would deteriorate severely. That was probably the worst. If she was caught tonguing her meds, they would probably restrain her and stick her with an IV full of them. That was probably the worst, too.

It might lead to answers, but then again, maybe this was just a sign that she really was crazy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea..._

Rebecca sat in the shower, cold water pouring over her body. She was running a high fever, as well as had her biggest migraine yet. Even sitting in the shower under freezing for 20 minutes hadn't helped.

It had been three days since she started tonguing some of her medications. Her condition had only gone downhill, starting with aches and pain, but then blossomed into all out pain. Everyday, she had to force herself to spit the orange pill out, knowing very well that taking it might even relieve her symptoms. It was beginning to feel more and more like withdrawal.

Rebecca shut the water off and got out of the freezing tub, toweling herself off. Once she was dry, she collapsed on her bed, shivering. So far, she was able to hide her condition from Burke, but not for long. He would notice sooner or later, and then the repercussions would come. Would they restrain her until she could prove that she was sound of mind?

_If that's what has to happen, then I can accept that I was wrong. But I'm going to keep it up as long as I can._

Easier said than done. Every day, she was exhausted. Sleep wasn't coming so easily, especially since the dream had decided to return. It was almost every night now, the same horrifying, cryptic sensations. Though, they seemed to be clearing a little bit. The shapes in her dream where becoming sharper, noises becoming more distinct.

There was a knock at her door, and Rebecca willed her tremblings away.

"Come in!" she called.

It was Dr. Burke, right on time with her medication. For the first time since Rebecca had seen him, he looked a bit worried. Usually, his demeanor was always friendly and relaxed. But the lines on his forehead now seemed to suggest otherwise.

"Good morning Rebecca," he said pleasantly enough. He handed her the doses, then consulted his clipboard. Inside the cup were now two orange pills.

_They're doubling up...They may think I'm building up an immunity..._

Which meant they hadn't figured it out yet. She was still in the clear, at least for the time being. If her tests continued to show negative traces of the drug, they might begin to suspect something.

Tonguing the evening meds were easy enough. She a few of them, then chucked the orange one after Burke left. Mornings were a little trickier. She had to pretend to take the pills and hope Burke would leave right away. If he didn't, she'd have to improvise and somehow get the pills out of her mouth without him noticing. She only had to do it once, and that was through a fake cough.

This morning, her luck appeared to continue. Burke's stop was an in and out one, and Rebecca was able to spit the pills out in the toilet once he left.

* * *

-_coiling around her throat, creeping up to her face. It was a hand! It clamped down over her mouth_-

-she jerked upright in a gasp, panting heavily. As soon as Rebecca tumbled back to awareness, she moaned and gripped her temples. It was going to happen any second; her head was going to split right down the middle. The pain was incredible-

-then it all made sense. The dream cleared, and her green eyes widened in realization. She kicked the sheets off quickly; they no longer felt warm and comfortable. Her bare feet touched on the icy tiles, toes protesting their discomfort by wriggling. The room suddenly felt very small.

Rebecca ran a hand through her auburn hair. It was damp with sweat.

-_out, I have to get out-_

Her slippers were still sitting at the foot of her bed. They were plain white, a cross between a pair of moccasins and slip ons. Pain still clouded her mind like an aneurysm, for all she knew, it could be one. A perfectly healthy woman simply collapsing from a burst blood vessel!

But it all made sense now, and the truth wanted to make her throw up.

_How could they do this...oh God, it was all a lie..._

Maybe, just maybe, she could still get away. They didn't suspect a thing. By the time they realized it, she would be long gone. Gone and safe from this crazy place. Quietly, she walked to the door, then cracked it open. The hallway was open.

Rebecca crept out, trying to act normal, but feeling horribly exposed, like any second she would step in a snare. Stairs, she had to make it to the stairs. Just down the stairs. Once she was out in public, they wouldn't be able to touch her; she'd be safe.

She started down the hall, hoping she looked nonchalant. It was a little past six in the evening.

_Just going down for a late meal, there's nothing suspicious of me..._

Her heart jumped into her throat when someone turned into the hall. It was a nurse, walking straight for her. Rebecca forced herself to walk on, to not tuck tail and run. The nurse drew closer, but only offered a brief smile as she passed, which Rebecca returned shakily.

_Only a bit further to go._

It was the last stretch of hallway. It was still relatively clear, with only a few nurses, staff and one orderly, the latter of which Rebecca eyed nervously. He was busy with something else, so she walked past him, moving a little faster than normal.

"Hello Rebecca," came a familiar voice, stopping her in her tracks. "I didn't know you were up and about."

She spun at the voice. It was Dr. Burke, literally appearing from nowhere. He must have been stooped over or something.

"Oh! Hi, doctor," she said, "You, uh, startled me! I was thinking."

_Stay your ground! Don't make him suspect!_

"Heading down to eat?" he said mildly.

Rebecca nodded a bit roughly. "Yes. I'm going to eat," she repeated stupidly.

He still didn't seem to pick up on her awkwardness. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Crap.

_Okay, so I eat with him, then leave. How much could happen if they still think I don't remember anything?_

"Sure!" she babbled. "I'd like that."

The two of them set down the hall, no more conversation between them. Burke broke the silence again.

"Rebecca," he said slowly. "Have you been feeling alright?"

"Yeah...I mean...Not really, just the usual from the meds." She swallowed. "Why?"

"You haven't been vomiting after your meds, or anything else that might remove them from your system?"

"No..."

She glanced at him. He met her look. At that moment, it happened. Rebecca wasn't sure if it was in their eyes, or their body language, but everything fell into place for both sides.

Burke reached into the pocket of his white coat, a move too quick to be anything gentle. Rebecca's nerve broke; she had to run, to get as far away as possible! In the corner of her eye, she saw a glint, a tray, full of surgical tools. She grabbed it and swung it as hard as she could.

The tray connected with the side of her doctor's head. He reeled, giving Rebecca enough time to ram into him, throwing him off balance and into a cart. The clatter of equipment shrieked through the halls. She began to run, not caring whose attention was caught in the skirmish. As she pushed through the doors with a bang, she risked glanced over her shoulder. The orderly she passed was barreling at her, vaulting over Burke's writhing, surprised form.

Down the steps, around the bend. The door to the stairs burst open again, discharging the orderly after her. He was fast, too fast! He dove just as she hit the landing, colliding with the frightened girl and spilling them into the hall. Rebecca threw herself into a frenzy, clawing with her nails at his face as he tried to restrain her arms with his own.

Her flailing made him loosen his grip. Rebecca tried to get to feet, but was caught off guard by the orderly as he grabbed her ankle, tripping her. Before she began to kick free, she saw the syringe in his hand, then felt it plunge into her calf. She shrieked and kicked, her heel crunching over the man's nose. The needle in her calf jiggled as her leg coiled and retracted. It hurt as she yanked it out, like someone pinching her hard.

No one tried to stop her as she stumbled to her feet. Everyone was backing away, like she was dangerous or contaminated. They were all patients and staff, but thankfully no orderlies. Rebecca took a step forward and almost buckled. A numbness was creeping through her left leg, the one that was poked.

-_some kind of local sedative I can't feel my leg-_

Her leg was almost gone. Pathetically, she half hopped, half skipped down the hall. What if there was another sedative with that syringe. How long before she lost consciousness? Could she make it to safety before then? What if-

-she reached the t-junction in the hall. To her right two more orderlies were jogging in her direction, breaking into a sprint when they spotted her. No doubt someone had called for them after her little tussle with the other one. With a moan of desperation, she hobbled in the other direction. Too slow, there was no way-!

-both of them tackled, her small body crushed under their weight. All of her air was expelled as a limb mashed her diaphragm. One of them wrestled with her arms, while the other pinned her legs.

Breathless, she writhed in their grip. It seemed like they pressed down on her from all angles. Something brushed against her face, and she didn't hesitate; she bit. She bit the hardest in her life, feeling like some kind of animal as her teeth sank into the bicep of the orderly grabbing her arms, gagging on the taste of his blood.

The orderly let go with a cry and rolled off of her, cradling his wounded arm. Rebecca began to thrash at the second latched onto her lower body.

"_LET ME GO!_" she screamed. "_LETMEGO LETMEGO LETMEGO! HELLLLP!_"

Help. She needed help, from anyone, anything. It came, but not for her. Another orderly grabbed her from behind, prying them away from the other. The next thing she realized, she was twisted into another full-nelson. Her arms flailed in the hold, as good as useless. The new orderly hiked her up, then dragged her to a gurney.

"_HELP ME! SOMEONE HELLLLP MEEE!_"

Furiously, she tugged in the grip, but still nothing. She realized that she was still shrieking. Her right leg kicked out again and again, even catching one of the orderlies in the crotch as he tried to catch it. Her left leg dangled uselessly along the ground, the muscles completely cut from her brain.

The orderly hiked her up again, then dropped her onto the gurney with a clatter. The metal frame buckled under her tiny body. She tried to rise, but was shoved back into the thin pad. Her eyes bulged when she realized what they were doing.

"_NOOO!_"

The orderly with the bit arm returned, drawing a strap across her body, just underneath her bosom and over her elbow joints. No matter how hard she twisted, all she did was buy herself time. Eventually, the thick nylon strap was tightened almost to the point of suffocation.

Now, with only the use of her forearms, Rebecca continued to thrash. Her shrieking gave way to sobbing.

"Rebecca!" called a voice. Burke. He returned, holding the side of his head with a wince on his face. "Please, settle down! You don't know what's going on-"

"_I know exactly what's going on, you fuck!_" she screamed. "_You liar! Let me go!_"

"She's slipped back into delusion," Burke said to the orderlies. He procured a small syringe from his coat. "Hold her down, I'm going to introduce a mild sedative-"

"-_NO! Don't you dare!-_"

He looked at the one with the bite mark in his arm. "Get that cleaned up. You go with him."

Two of the men left, and the remaining one pressed his hand down on her head, anchoring it to the cot. Burke popped the cap off the syringe and drew it close to her neck.

"Please, Rebecca," he pleaded as her thrashing made his hand hesitate. "I promise that I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to help."

For that instant, Rebecca slackened. Through her blurry, streaming eyes, she could see Burke's handsome face, worried and in pain from the blow she gave him. Umbrella had her cold, and he was being so gentle, so kind. Why?

It was all so clear. She was abducted from her apartment, before she could meet with Chris in Europe. Then she woke up at the institute. They tried to lie to her, to bend the truth. The mansion incident _did_ happen, and Umbrella _was _behind it. It was a good try, she'd give them that. But it was too real to be an illusion...it was as real as...as she was here...

What if this was the same thing? What if she _was_ in another delusional state? Of course it would make sense to her.

All of this flashed through her mind in an instant. Her struggling lessened, now only fueled by her fear of the strap crushing her ribs. She shut her eyes tightly, not wanting to see his hand make the motion.

_It'll be over soon, It'll be over soon...please, it has to be over..._

Any second now-

"-move and you're dead!" yelled a voice.

There was the sound of a scuffle. Rebecca opened her eyes to see the remaining orderly fall past her field of vision, unconscious. Someone, looking out of place in street clothes against the sterile surroundings, had Burke by the collar, a gun against his forehead. Whoever it was was well built, about six feet tall, short, brown hair-

"Chris??" Rebecca croaked.

Sure enough, the Alpha Team marksmen was standing right next her. Chris's mouth was drawn in a thin line, his brow furrowed in anger. Burke's normally kind face was drawn in a similar fashion.

"You..." he snarled.

Chris drew back his arm and whipped his gun across the doctor's temple, sending him to the ground to join the orderly.

Rebecca whimpered, afraid of what her mind was doing to her. Did Burke already stick her with the needle, and now she was dreaming? Chris couldn't be here, he was out of the city with S.T.A.R.S. And why would he be attacking the staff like that?

Chris stuck his gun in his belt, then began to work on the strap holding her down. He touched her shoulder gently; it seemed real enough. What was he doing?

"Chris...what-"

"It's okay, Rebecca," he soothed. "I'm going to get you out of here."

After a few seconds, his hands released the strap, and Rebecca wormed it up with his help, then clawed it off. His hand was still on her shoulder. She batted it away then bolted upright with some difficulty. Her entire left leg was now tingling and numb.

"Rebecca-"

"Don't touch me!" she said, pressing her back against the wall where the gurney sat. "You're not supposed to be here!"

"What?" Chris looked bewildered.

"He said you were gone, that you weren't coming to visit! He...ugh!" A lance of pain shot through her head. Rebecca gripped her bangs and squealed. Chris leaned forward and held her before she could tip over.

_Damn it, why did I stop taking those pills...Because they were drugging me, because I was delusional...No, it was because my head was all screwed up, and I didn't trust them enough!_

"Rebecca, are you okay?"

She was delusional, but why was Chris here? Why had he pummeled her doctor when they were trying to help her?

"You have to tell me, Chris..." she whispered.

"Huh?"

"You have to tell me," she repeated, then grabbed his shoulders roughly, looking him in his pale blue eyes with her own brilliant green. Her fingernails burned as she tightly clenched the material of his jacket. "_You have to tell me if this is real!_"

"Rebecca I don't-"

"_Tell me!_" she almost screamed, trying to shake him. "_Tell me!_"

Chris suddenly gripped both sides of her face, this thumbs just below her eyes. "Rebecca Chambers! You are the Special Tactics and Rescue Squad's field medic and acting rear security for Bravo Team! You helped uncover the conspiracy behind Umbrella Inc. Over three months ago, you were abducted. _That_, is the truth!"

Both of them froze, faces mere inches away from each other. Then, it hit Rebecca; she finally knew what she could believe.

"Chris, I-I...oh Chris..."

She didn't bother telling him. Instead, she just coiled her arms around him in a death grip, burying her face into his neck. He was solid, not just a figment of her imagination. She took deep breaths through her nose. He even smelled real. He _was_ real.

"It's okay Rebecca, I've got you now," he said and patted her back. "But we need to get moving. This place looks legitimate, but there might be more people who'll want to stop us."

Rebecca broke away and sniffled. "They stuck my leg with something. I...I can't walk."

Chris grinned. "That would be too easy." He slipped off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, then flipped the hem of his shirt over his gun. He turned around. "Hop on."

Rebecca couldn't help but smile, too. She shifted herself, then hopped onto his back, circling her arms lightly around his neck. He tucked his hands under her thighs for a better grip, then hoisted her easily.

"Giddy-yap." she whispered.

"Can it," he growled, "Or I'll drop you right here."

She giggled, despite the fear still inside of her. They were far from being safe. He carried her through the halls and down the stairs. Although a few people gave them stares, no one made a move to stop him. She could feel the tenseness of Chris's muscles; he was on high alert. If someone tried to stop them, he wouldn't be able to defend himself while she was on his back. Not without letting her drop, but Chris would never do that.

"Chris," she whispered in his ear. "They said that my parents were coming."

"We've been in contact with you're parents since you vanished," he said lowly. "They know exactly what's going on. Whatever these guys said to you was a lie. Big surprise."

Rebecca sighed in relief. Her family was safe. Umbrella couldn't get to them, not if Chris and the others were watching them. But wait-

"The captain," she whispered fearfully. "He's alive..."

Chris tensed further. "Yeah...I know. We'll tell you all about once we're out of here. Just wait till you hear about Raccoon..."

"You mean we're not there now?"

Chris gave an airy laugh. "Nope."

They'd already reached the front door. No one stopped them as they stepped through the glass sliding doors. Outside, the bitter January air chilled Rebecca through her thin clothes, but her teammate's jacket fought it off. There was a car parked in the driveway; Rebecca recognized Jill Valentine in the driver's seat.

She snuggled closer into Chris's back. It was uncomfortable and chilly, but she'd much rather be outside and cold than be in the institute and warm. She would take the harsh truth over a comforting lie any day.

**The End**


End file.
